All books about: “watching a movie online…. Andrey Basov - wish-fulfillment machine Wish-fulfilling machine Paul Maar film

She won’t kick me out anyway! After all, I have a Subastic with a blue-flecked face!
- What did you come up with?
Mr. Peppermint smiled and said:
“Let Mrs. Brückman, every time she wants to scold me, say not at all what she thinks, but just the opposite.” I ask you, Subastic, fulfill my wish!..
Meanwhile, the hostess finally came to her senses and, slightly opening the kitchen door, looked out into the corridor. There was no polar bear in sight. Having wrapped the brush in a floor rag, the hostess stuck it through the door crack and rummaged around behind the threshold. Nothing! Having gained courage, Mrs. Brückman went out into the corridor and through the wide open front door she saw a bear - he was sitting in a snowdrift by the porch, leaning his back against the wall of the house. Creeping up to the door, the hostess slammed it. Then she rushed to Mr. Peppermint's door, pulled it sharply and, her face purple with rage, burst into the room. With her hands on her hips, she screamed:
- Mister Peppermint! You are an unusually nice and pleasant person! You are the best of all the residents!
Mr. Peppermint was still standing on the chair.
He bowed politely to the hostess and replied:
- Thank you, Mrs. Brückman! Thank you for your kind words!
- And I’m not at all sorry that you climbed into my magnificent chair with your boots on! After all, he is already thirty-five years old, no less, and it’s high time to change the upholstery on him! - Mrs. Brückman continued to scream.
“What are you talking about, Mrs. Brückman,” Mr. Peppermint objected embarrassedly. - Really, there is no need for this. The upholstery is still quite good...
- What... what am I saying? - the hostess muttered, bulging her eyes and stuttering. - By the way, it’s high time to replace the curtains in your room too!
- What's true is true! - Mr. Peppermint exclaimed joyfully. - These old curtains are so ugly!
- What did you say? - the hostess roared. -Are my curtains ugly? Yes, they are simply terrible, simply monstrous!
“I completely agree with you,” Mr. Peppermint confirmed and winked at Subastic. - What should we do with Robinson now?
Mrs. Brückmann immediately turned purple again and screamed deafeningly:
- Robinson? Ah, Robinson! Yes, this is the quietest, most obedient child I have ever seen! Please don’t send him home, let him at least live with us a little longer! I will be so pleased to have breakfast in his company! If he stays with you for a long time, I, of course, will have to slightly change the amount of the rent. You will pay me twenty marks less - after all, you already have high expenses for a child!
Mrs. Brückmann listened to her own words in confusion and finally blurted out:
- I myself don’t understand what I’m saying! That's not what I had in mind at all! I wanted to say: if the dear little one stays here, you will pay thirty marks less for the apartment!
“This is out of the question, Mrs. Brückman,” Mr. Peppermint waved him off. - I will pay you exactly as much for the apartment as before!
“So I wanted to say...” Here she stopped short and shook her head: “If you don’t mind, I’ll go to my room now.” I hope you'll excuse me. I wish you a good day today!
She nodded to him and left.
- What a courteous lady! - said Subastic.
“Only still a little too loud,” noted Mr. Peppermint. - Generally speaking, what a pleasure it is to live in the same house with friendly people! I have no doubt that over time she will get used to acting like this with everyone. And it will be easier for her! She will soon understand how tiring it is to scold from morning to evening.
- Did you hear what she said about me? - Subastic did not let up. “She says I’m the quietest and most obedient child she’s ever seen.” And you also called me a “siren”!
- It would be nice if you really were so quiet! “Especially in the morning,” Mr. Peppermint sighed.
- Shhh! - Subastic hissed in fear. - Be careful not to make another ridiculous wish by mistake! Firstly, I have no intention of becoming a quiet and obedient child. Secondly, desires must be spent sparingly. I can’t see my face, but I think there are almost no specks left on it!
Mr. Peppermint looked carefully at Subastic's face.
“You're right,” he said. - There are only two blue dots left - under the left ear.
- Yes! - Subastic drawled. - In that case, daddy, you should think carefully before disposing of them.
- We'll think about it tomorrow! - Mr. Peppermint waved him off. - Today, let’s go for a walk while the sun is shining, and be glad that we safely survived this terrible snowstorm!
- Tomorrow? - Subastic asked in surprise. - But tomorrow, daddy, I won’t be here anymore.
- How so? Why?
- But tomorrow is Saturday!
- So what?
- Like what? Subastics always remain only until Saturday!
- Do you really want to leave me? Are you kidding?
- No, daddy, I'm not joking. Subastics always do this. And so wish yourself something today.
-Can't you stay? I’m not asking just because of these desires! But Subastic shook his head and said:
- No I can not.
Mr. Peppermint sat down at his desk and stared thoughtfully into space. Finally he took a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote a few words in a column. A little later he shook his head, crossed out everything he had written earlier, and again plunged into thought.
- What are you doing? - asked Subastic.
“I’m thinking about what I would wish,” Mr. Peppermint answered.
“If so, I’d better go for a walk,” Subastic decided. “Then you can think calmly, and I can sing calmly.”
Mister Peppermint nodded absently.
“If you want to express your request in verse, then this is not an easy task,” Subastic continued. - What rhyme, one wonders, can be chosen for the word “please”? Unless I “bite” or “shu-shu”... Maybe you want the lap dog Shushu?
“No, thank you,” Mr. Peppermint smiled. - I don’t need any lapdog!
“Well, as you know,” Subastic answered and climbed out of the window onto the street.
Until the evening, Mr. Peppermint sat over a piece of paper at his desk and thought. At times he wrote something on it, but immediately crossed out what he had written, and then wrote some other words and thought again.
By the end of the day, Subastic stuck his head out the window and shouted:
- Well, daddy, did you come up with something? Maybe you want some nervous help? Or a third eye on the back of your head? Or maybe it's an elephant in a checkered pattern?
Mister Peppermint answered him:
- I'm afraid I won't find the right solution! More than once I thought I had found it. But as soon as I thought a little, I realized that I was mistaken. What good is money if there is no health? What does a person need health and longevity if he is destined to spend his whole life alone? What good is freedom to a person if he is poor or, what good, blind? I have to think some more.
- Eventually you'll come up with something! - Subastic tried to console him and jumped out of the window into the street again.
Only late in the evening did Subastic return home. Mr. Peppermint was sitting on his bed looking very pleased.
- Well, daddy, did you come up with anything worthwhile? - asked Subastic.
Mister Peppermint nodded.
- What did you come up with?
- I want a car that would fulfill all my desires! Please, Subastic!
- Great! A very reasonable wish! - Subastic was happy.
Immediately the front doorbell rang. Soon Mrs. Brückmann appeared and said:
- Mr. Peppermint, a package has just been brought to you. I am very pleased that at an hour when all decent people have long been asleep, they wake me up with a loud bell and bring various packages for you! Let me give you a parcel!
Mr. Peppermint opened the door, took the package from Mrs. Brückman's hands and placed it on the desk. When he finally untied the cord with trembling hands and removed the wrapping paper, he saw the magnificent, dazzlingly beautiful “Wish Machine”. Its sparkling metal frame reflected the happy face of Mr. Peppermint.
- Wonderful car! - Subastic exclaimed.
“It’s really wonderful,” Mr. Peppermint agreed. - How to turn it on?
“No way,” said Subastic.
- What do you mean “no way”? Why? - Mr. Peppermint was indignant.
“There are two kinds of machines that fulfill wishes,” Subastic explained. - Some are driven by a handle and wheel, others by pressing a button. You just said that you want a car, but you didn’t specify which one. Therefore, to begin with, I ordered that the “Wish Machine” be brought to you. And now you can ask for a handle with a wheel or a button in addition to it. You still have one more unused desire.
- If so, I want a button! Button to the “Wish Machine”! And definitely red so that it can be seen better! Please, Subastic, please! - Mr. Peppermint shouted.
But the car remained the same as it was before. Mr. Peppermint ran around her twice, followed by an alarmed Subastic. The button never appeared! Mr. Peppermint decided to try again.
- Please, Subastic, get me a red button for this machine! - he said loudly and clearly.
But the button did not appear on the machine - neither red, nor blue, nor white.
Mr. Peppermint looked at Subastic and exclaimed:
“You don’t have a single speck left on your face!” Of course, the button does not appear!
- Not a single speck? - Subastic asked confused. - You said there were two of them!
- There were two!
- How were they located?
- Very close. One under the other.
- That's what I thought! - Subastic groaned. “It wasn’t two specks, but one.” You see, not two dots, but a colon! The colon is intended to fulfill especially complex and unusual desires. But now that I don’t have a single speck left, I can no longer make my wishes come true! I'm so sorry, daddy!
- What good is a machine that doesn't work to me? - Mr. Peppermint said sadly. - Eat it if you want. You love iron!
- What are you, what are you, daddy! - Subastic shook his head. “Really, it’s time for me to go now, because in a few minutes midnight will strike.” But you know, under some circumstances I can return. And I’ll come back again covered in blue specks. And whatever you ask, I will do everything for you!
- Under what circumstances? - asked Mr. Peppermint.
- Do not you know? On Monday - visit of Ponedelkus! On Tuesday - the visit of the Second Year, on Wednesday - the middle of the week...
- Understood! Understood! - Mr. Peppermint shouted. - And on Saturday - Subastic’s visit!
“Yes, I’ll be glad to meet you again,” Subastic answered. - But now it’s time for me to leave!
Mr. Peppermint ran to the closet, rummaged through it and pulled out a warm wool sweater and a pair of brown boots.
- Here! - he said, handing them to Subastic. - This is for you. The nights are cold. Take it for yourself!
- You’re a good guy, daddy! - Subastic exclaimed joyfully. - What a beautiful sweater and what wonderful shoes! Thank you very much, daddy! All this is very tasty!
And before Mr. Peppermint had time to object, Subastic swallowed both the shoes and the sweater.
- Delicious! Real jam! - he exclaimed. - Goodbye, daddy! I really liked yours. And such a wonderful treat! I will be glad to meet again.
Subastic opened the window and climbed out into the street. Mr. Peppermint saw him walk past the dark bushes to the kitchen window, under which he still lay curled up. polar bear. Subastic climbed onto his back, and the bear ran away. When he caught up with the street lamp, his white skin flashed for an instant as a bright spot in the silvery light, and immediately both were swallowed up in darkness.

8
SATURDAY

On Saturday morning, Mr. Peppermint got up early, sat down at his desk in his pajamas and began to write a letter to his friend Monday:

Dear Monday!
Please, be sure to come and visit me next Monday. This is extremely important to me. If you can, bring donuts, but in a pinch you can do without them. I will reimburse you for all expenses. Just be sure to come on Monday!
With warm regards
your friend Peppermint.

Having written this letter, Mr. Peppermint put it in an envelope, sealed it, wrote the address on it and quickly ran out of the house.
Mrs. Brückmann, watching him from her bedroom window, shook her head and shouted after him:
- Good morning, Mister Peppermint! How cute is it that you are running around the garden in your pajamas!
Mr. Peppermint shuddered, looked at his outfit and, realizing that in his haste he forgot to get dressed, immediately rushed back to his room.
Less than five minutes later, he ran out of the house again - this time in a brown suit. He rushed past Mrs. Brückman, who nodded politely to him, and rushed to the nearest corner, where the mailbox hung. Having dropped the letter into it, he returned home.
But before he had time to sit down on the bed, he immediately jumped up shouting:
- Oh, what an ass I am! In my haste I forgot to put on the stamp!
And Mr. Peppermint sat down at his desk again and wrote exactly the same letter again. Then, putting a stamp on the envelope, he ran out of the house for the third time with the letter in his hand.

Throwing it into the mailbox, he walked towards the house.
Mrs. Brückmann was still sitting by the open window.

Andrey Basov

Wish fulfillment machine

“The Wish Granting Machine” is an abridged version of the three-volume novel “Tales of the Old House.” Here is a book of puzzling situations, situations from which it is the head that helps the main characters get out of them, and not magic, muscles and the ability to shoot. Fans of horror, cosmic and witchcraft nightmares, feuds and fights will be disappointed and should not open this book and spoil their mood. But fans of easy-to-read, fairy-tale, romantic fiction will probably get aesthetic pleasure. And those who sometimes like to read before bedtime will also have pleasant dreams. Don't be surprised by the bizarre mixture of times, events and characters. After all, it’s about the fulfillment of desires, and not at all about the facts of history...

Andrey Basov

Prologue, year 1975

With a siren and squealing brakes, a large ambulance stopped in front of our House. The doctor and orderlies with a stretcher rushed up the stairs to the second floor. All the boys who found themselves near the House, of course, followed them, including me.

We understood what “not a single living place” meant when the body was taken out of the door. Blood was even dripping from the stretcher, and the face of a usually cheerful man under a randomly thrown back sheet was white and lifeless. The police arrived and began to deal with everyone except the boys. They investigated for a long time, but the culprits were never found. No one saw or heard them.

Gradually, a rather incomprehensible picture emerged, as my mother told me. Nikolai Ivanovich, a retired military man, was found by a neighbor. I was walking along the corridor and heard an unusual noise and rumble in the resident’s room. She knocked once, twice. Nobody is answering. The door is bolted from the inside. But you just move such latches and they fly off at once. She moved and entered. A man in a pool of blood and fallen furniture. Apparently, he was trying to stay on his feet, grabbing at anything. It's clear from the blood and holes in the clothes that it's not a heart attack. There is no one else, no shots were heard and there are no weapons lying around. It is clear that in such a state he could not come to the apartment and they shot him right there. Later, almost a dozen bullets were removed from the body. But who shot, with what and how did he disappear from the room?

These questions remain unanswered. Nikolai Ivanovich was silent. He still survived. Three months later he was released from the hospital. At first he walked slowly and carefully. Then he gradually came to life and became cheerful, as before. Six months after the hospital, he unexpectedly moved out of the House without warning anyone, and for some reason it was not the police who showed up to deal with his departure. It seems that he left too hastily, lightly, and did not even quit the service.

Mom says that when he was wounded, he was wearing a military uniform. In general, this is not surprising for a retiree, but the uniform was an officer’s, with shoulder straps, but not Soviet. Whose affiliation is unknown and the bullets in the body are from a weapon of unknown origin...

CHAPTER 1: Princess

I recently returned from Paris in the twenties, where our miracle was unspeakable - the Amazons Ancient Rome They staged a pogrom in one of the local gangs. And why does this audience of the bottom of Paris cling to girls who themselves do not touch anyone unless provoked? Well, it’s clear that you won’t be indifferent to such charm, but the extent of importunity still needs to be understood. Eh, I’m not indifferent to them myself, though not in a sexual way. They are like members of a family, created spontaneously in a distant time from the imagination of one of us. Perhaps it’s time to talk about this unusual and diverse dream, which in an incomprehensible way acquired completely material forms. For me, in the House, as we call it by name, like a living being, everything started a year and a half ago not at all with the Amazons.

Usually, reading other people's biographies is boring. Therefore, I will not burden them too much. But at least you need to know something about the characters. There are not many of us - just five. But each plays an important role in events that are very different and highly dependent on the characters of the participants.

Our House is an old, four-story mansion on Sergievskaya Street with a “lordly” front door and two courtyard outbuildings. Oddly enough, but probably one of the most interesting and colorful inhabitants of our House is the janitor - Tatar Akhmed. Lonely, kind and accommodating, with the face of either an opera villain or a movie Horde khan. However, when a narrow beard and mustache spread into a smile, you probably won’t find a kinder face. He is already an old man and has probably spent his entire life at the House.

Anna Petrovna. It is clear from everything that in her time she was a rare beauty. Even now it is difficult to take your eyes off her unusual face and penetrating eyes. Mysterious personality. Even for my mother and grandmother. Anna Petrovna is clearly older than her mother, but it seems that she is much younger than her grandmother. However, about past life Anna Petrovna, neither one nor the other knows anything. Anna Petrovna was already here when our family moved into the House. It cannot be said that Anna Petrovna is closed and uncommunicative. Not at all. She serves as a translator for some publishing house and, at least due to her work, cannot help but be sociable. More than once I saw her and my mother standing on the landing or on the street and animatedly chatting about something. German. Another thing is that, observing Anna Petrovna, you clearly feel the distance, the border of which should not be crossed either in conversations or in attempts to act. If Anna Petrovna never invites anyone to her place, then she shouldn’t be invited anywhere. A polite but categorical refusal is obviously predictable.

True, there are also people living in our “lordly” front door whom Anna Petrovna still occasionally honors with short visits. And one of them...

- Damn, what do you want!?

A sharp tug on my sleeve stopped me as soon as I grabbed the handle of our front door.

Two healthy guys with Spanish faces and clothes that pretend to be Al Capone gangsters. Such in Lately divorced like uncut dogs. True, the rags do not in any way hide the plebeian manners and habit of causeless scolding of everyone they meet and cross.

- Boy, can you find a smoke? - the one who stood face to face with me is sincerely interested.

The other one, a little to the side, continues to hold my sleeve. Probably so that I don’t suddenly give in until they figure out this issue. Wow, and this is in broad daylight!

“Sorry, guys, I don’t smoke,” I answered, swallowing and suddenly feeling something stuck in my throat.

- What if we search? – followed the expected question from the one in front.

“Senya, look there, otherwise you and I don’t even have a spot on the metro,” came an echo from the flank.

“In these days, you can’t get away with a coin on the subway,” Senya sighed heavily, “Come on, kid, let’s count in your wallet how much we need for the subway...”

And suddenly, for some reason, Senya suddenly began to stretch out on tiptoes, wheezing and turning his head in the gangster scarf that suddenly squeezed his neck. His friend unhooked himself from my sleeve and, gurgling strangely through his mouth, almost hung in someone’s powerful hand, squeezing the collar of his coat. Captain!

“Hey, you comedians, I’ll see you on our street again, and I won’t get away with verbal suggestion!”

The unlucky robbers, flying to the side, hastily retreated, stretching their injured necks.

- Look, Seryozha, how many of them have divorced. It's just some kind of misfortune. Or maybe there was such an epidemic? It’s necessary, in the middle of summer, to wear black coats down to your toes. A sign of illness? Are you home? – asked the Captain. -Will you come see me?

Sea captain. No one calls this strongly built, almost fifty-year-old man with strong-willed features by his first name and patronymic. For everyone he is just a Captain, but for me he is also a neighbor on the landing. And it is not clear that such a not very ceremonious treatment somehow outraged him or upset him in any way. Even from the boys, of whom I was one, it would seem, quite recently. Sometimes, when the Captain is at home, Mom invites him to have lunch with us or just sit and chat about something. To which he always agrees with pleasure.

The captain is always somewhere far away and is only at home three or four times a year for a week or two. He brings with him new wonders from distant countries, and this serves as a reason, without much doubt, to drop in on him like a neighbor. Two spacious adjacent rooms are filled and hung with all sorts of wonders. There are also ancient navigational instruments here. And stuffed unknown fish. And ritual masks of sorcerers and shamans different countries. And ancient maps, maps, maps with unusual outlines of continents and subtle drawings of sailing ships, elements and sea monsters.

Teacher. Well, of course, for some he is a teacher, since he teaches Russian language and literature at school. For us, he is just a neighbor from the apartment on the floor above. Alexander Baskov is in his thirties. The teacher is like his short nickname, a nickname in our House. Alexander has a close friend. Surrealist artist Igor Tyulpanin. So all the walls in Alexander’s room are hung with paintings of rather strange, implausible content, but at the same time amazing and attractive beauty. I often sit among this colorful splendor and silently contemplate simply fantastic scenes. Meanwhile, Alexander pores over his student notebooks or writes something of his own.

The story of the Bulgarian science fiction writer Atanas Slavov is not only about the contact of two humanoid civilizations. The fantastic form is just a reason for a serious and urgent conversation about our system of values, about the moral foundations that make a person a Human. This story is an optimistic warning against attempts to interfere with the psyche, against manipulating the psyche, turning a person and a machine to perform certain social functions.

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Conspiracies of the Pechora healer Maria Fedorovskaya... Irina Smorodova

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Are a werewolf the perfect killing machine? Why not? The secret laboratory continues a series of inhumane experiments. Strong, healthy, wealthy people are disappearing in Russian cities. In the “Lair”, on the territory of a former military facility, werewolves appear. They are locked within four walls. “Scientific” experiments are performed on them. They are doomed... Are they all? He got lucky. He, an experimental werewolf, miraculously found himself free - and began his investigation. Who is he? Wolf or man? He doesn’t know this himself. Meanwhile, the full moon is approaching...

Stone of Fire Tanya Huff

There were three of them. Three who never knew each other until one day, in a terrible hour of danger, their lives were woven together into a thread of sword and magic. There were three of them... A young man who, in the name of revenge for ruined love, exchanged luxury and wealth for the dashing “profession” of thieves. A prince without hope of a crown is a cheerful and dissolute rake, least of all fit to fulfill the high lot of a hero. A young girl who has the great gift of power over ANY magic and witchcraft, no matter how many there are in the sublunary world. There were three of them - exactly as many as she had planned...

Ecumenical unconvoy Felix Razumovsky

He is the fastest, the most decisive, the most unpredictable, the most... A man-legend, a terminator in the flesh, a killing machine - a powerful Siberian man, retired sailor Danila Brodov. He has gone through fire, water, copper pipes, he does not believe in God, or the devil, or loud words, but only in himself, in his fighting friends and in real masculine principles. But why does the long-legged beauty from pre-dawn dreams call him Svalidor, the Guardian of the Axis, and his whole life is a continuous series of mysterious events? And is it any wonder that it is he, Danila...

Dream Girls Deneen Millner

A romantic story about the rise of three talented girls to the top of show business. Love and friendship, betrayal and betrayal, the delight of recognition and the cruelty of defeat, bitter tears of disappointment and, finally, well-deserved glory. Read the book and watch the wonderful film DREAM GIRLS.